


Blue

by choupichoups



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Childhood Sweethearts, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-19 04:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18130778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choupichoups/pseuds/choupichoups
Summary: Eliott’s world has always been black and white.He’s not even being dramatic— he’s already seven years old, he’s too old to be dramatic.





	1. Chapter 1

Eliott’s world has always been black and white.

He’s not even being dramatic— he’s already _seven_ years old, he’s too old to be dramatic.

“That’s not the green marker!” He hears the teacher hiss out, exchanging quick whispers with the poor assistant who’d come running inside the room only minutes earlier. Looking up at the commotion, Eliott stares at the assistant’s bewildered expression and immediately determines that the girl is one of the lucky ones with the syndrome.

The fancy adults call it the Soul Syndrome. Eliott likes to call it the Annoying Syndrome.

“Can I borrow your red?” One of the few students still remaining in school taps him on the shoulder and Eliott shrugs, pushing his bucket of paint tubes forward. He can’t tell which one’s red and he’s too lazy to read the labels.

You see, about forty percent of the world’s population are born with the Syndrome— the condition has them seeing in complete black and white until their one true love comes along, pokes them in the face, and suddenly the world bursts into colour. So basically Eliott has to put in the extra effort to make contact with everyone he meets just in case one of them happens to be his soulmate.

Eliott just wants to paint pretty pictures. It’s honestly very inconvenient.

And what if his soulmate doesn’t show up until he’s like, ninety years old? How is he supposed to differentiate between a broccoli and a cauliflower meanwhile, huh? It makes eating his mama’s disgusting vegetables all the more stressful than it already is.

He stands from his seat, looking out the window to check if his parents have already arrived, having to squint at the plate numbers on the parked cars because he obviously doesn’t know what colour their car is. He has to repeatedly memorize new plate numbers, especially when his dad is the weirdo with a strange obsession with exchanging cars every so often. Again, very stressful.

The after school program only runs until a certain time, because teachers apparently don’t live in their classrooms (they eat and live lives outside of torturing students with big numbers and words with too many letters) and Eliott always ends up being one of the last students left in school. His parents work for the same company very far away from where they live and Eliott understands that they try their best to come early but he gets really bored of staying in one place all the time.

No one can blame him for sneaking out of the classroom while the supervising teacher freaks out over her markers.

He takes his bucket of paint tubes and the half finished artwork with him so he can finish up without the distracting screeches from the adults. He’s peacefully walking along the quiet hallway when one of the classroom doors slams open and a small child rams right into Eliott, careless like a spooked puppy.

The impact has him losing grip of everything in his hold and Eliott falls on his bum on top of that. Honestly, can he just live one day without stress? The tubes are probably scattered all over the hallway and he can hear his bucket still clanging obnoxiously against the floor as it rolls and rolls and rolls.

Eliott huffs, opens his eyes— and almost screams immediately after.

The wide eyed boy huddled in front of him is not in black and white.

In fact, _nothing_ is in black and white.

Eliott doesn’t know exactly what he’s seeing, but he’s certain that this is what colour looks like.

The other boy’s eyes are swimming with tears but Eliott decides that no other colour can be as pretty as it is.

“That’s ugly,” the other boy says, sniffing into his sleeves, pretty eyes trained on Eliott’s unfinished painting.

Eliott looks down at it and, well, yes it’s a little ugly _now_ but hey, it was really nice in black and white. He frowns, defensive over his ugly painting. “It’s called _abstract_.” He enunciates carefully, saying it exactly how his papa describes the other ugly paintings in their house. It’s the biggest word he knows so he’s hoping it might impress his soulmate.

His soulmate doesn’t look impressed.

“I don’t care, I don’t know what that means.”

Eliott pouts. Great, even his soulmate is stressful. The other boy looks around in wonder, eyes eventually catching and lingering on Eliott’s shoelaces. His mama’s the one who fixes his shoelaces for him, Eliott only now sees how very bright the colours on them are.

“What colour are those?” The little boy points at his shoes.

“I don’t know,” Eliott answers truthfully. “I just saw them now too.”

“Oh.”

The big double doors of the front entrance slides open and Eliott immediately recognizes his mama as one of the two adults approaching. The other lady has very long hair and eyes almost as pretty as his soulmate’s.

Eliott looks at the boy and asks frantically, “What’s your name?”

The boy blinks back at him. “Lucas.”

Eliott’s lips spread into a big, toothy smile, standing up and dusting off his hands to make sure they’re clean enough before taking Lucas’ hand to pull him off the floor as well. Now that they’re standing upright, Eliott notices how teeny tiny his soulmate actually is. He giggles in delight.

“Eliott!” His mama calls out, and Eliott gapes at the very bright colour tinting the bottom part of his mama’s hair. “What are you doing outside the classroom?”

“But mama—”

“Lucas, what’s wrong baby?” The other lady asks, kneeling down to coo at her son. Eliott looks over to see the tears back in Lucas’ eyes.

It’s official— seeing his soulmate cry is the worst thing in the world. Even worse than brussel sprouts.

“I was napping and then I woke up alone in the classroom!” Lucas blubbers out, sniffing as tears pour down his face. “I thought you forgot about me,” he finishes off, looking miserable.

Lucas’ mom reaches out but Eliott is closer so he takes it upon himself to wrap the smaller boy into his arms, copying the way his parents hug him every time he feels sad. It’s always the best feeling in the world so he wants to share it with his Lucas.

“Don’t cry, Lulu, even if they forget you, I won’t!”

“I don’t even know you,” Lucas muffles into his shoulder and _goodness gracious_ it’s just Eliott’s luck to have a soulmate so rude. No manners, this one.

“I’m Eliott!” He pulls away to place a big kiss on Lucas’ forehead. “I’ll be here from now on, so don’t ever cry again, okay?”

Lucas just looks at him with his big, shiny eyes and slowly shuffles away, hiding behind his mother’s skirt. Eliott pouts.

His mama is laughing at him. Both of their mamas are laughing actually.

“Did you make a friend, Lucas?” Lucas’ mom asks, running a hand through her son’s hair.

“I’m not just his friend, he’s gonna marry me,” Eliott says as he walks around collecting all the paint back inside his bucket. He hears a strange sound behind him and sees the two women bent over in laughter. Adults are so weird. His eyes move down to Lucas but he can only see little hands gripping tightly onto the long haired lady’s skirt.

“Come on, Eliott, let’s go home.” His mama holds out a hand for him but Eliott frowns— he knows that voice. She doesn’t believe what he’s saying. Eliott will show them.

Peeking around the other lady’s skirt, Eliott mumbles a polite, “Excuse me,” as he goes to search for Lucas’ pretty eyes again. “I’ll give this to you,” he says, all firm and serious like his papa pretends to be during work parties.

Lucas looks down at the painting. “No, thank you.”

“What, why?”

“It’s still ugly.”

“I said it’s abstract.” Eliott stomps his foot. He hears a snort from above them but his eyes are glued on Lucas. He frowns, feeling himself tear up out of frustration— how does he convince Lucas to accept his token of love?

The painting gets taken from him so quickly that Eliott thinks he’s accidentally dropped it, but when he looks up, Lucas’s hugging it in his arms, eyebrows all scrunched up in concern.

“Don’t cry,” Lucas says. “It’s not that ugly, I guess.”

 _Aha_. Eliott knew it. He’s going to be a world-renowned painter one day.

“Okay, Eliott, we really have to go, your dad’s waiting.” His mama takes the bucket of paint with one hand and drags Eliott away with the other.

“Wait!”

“You’ll see Lucas again on Monday.”

“Wait, I have to do something!” Eliott wiggles out of her hold and runs back to Lucas, who’s studying Eliott’s painting with his mama.

“Lucas!”

The little boy looks up, confused that Eliott’s back again. Eliott runs straight at him, knowing that his mama really wants to go home now so he’s got to hurry.

He stops in front of his soulmate, grinning big and bright, before leaning in to smack a quick kiss on his lips, just like he’s seen in those Disney movies.

Lucas promptly bursts out crying.

 

* * *

 

Eliott plays with his paintbrushes on the way home. They’re all dried now so it doesn’t stain when he runs his fingers over the bristles.

Noticing that one of them looks almost the same (not as bright, not as sparkly) as Lucas’ eyes, he bounces up in his seat to ask, “Mama, what colour is this?” He shoves the paintbrush in between the two front seats, wiggling the tinted brush around.

His papa takes a deep breath and his mama smiles. They do their weird eye contact juju where they don’t speak but somehow smile and nod at each other anyway. Adults are weird.

“That’s blue.”

“You like that colour, Eliott?” His papa asks, looking like he’s about to cry for some reason. Eliott hopes he’s not sad cause then _Eliott_ will be sad and it just won’t be a fun Friday night for anyone.

“Yes!” He answers, giddy as he thinks about his cute soulmate. “It’s my favourite.”

“Do we have a name?” Papa whispers towards Mama.

“Lucas,” Mama responds and Eliott perks up at the mention of the name.

“I’m gonna marry him!” He declares to no one in particular, running his eyes over his paintbrush. _Blue blue blue_.

“When are you planning to do that?” Papa chuckles.

“On Monday.”

The chuckles turn to choking. Papa must have breathed wrong, it happens to Eliott sometimes too. “How ‘bout we slow down a bit, huh, little man?”

“But I already kissed him, we can marry now.”

“What?”

“Long story,” Mama says, rolling her eyes as she smiles. “Maybe wait a little before marrying him, hm baby?”

“Why?”

“Because he’s too young.”

“Why?”

“He’s not a big boy yet, not like you.”

“Oh, ok. I’ll just keep kissing him then!”

Papa makes a weird, squeaky noise. “Maybe wait for that too.”

“Why?”

“Remember, Eliott, too young.”

“When should I kiss him?”

There’s a short silence, with Eliott watching his parents make tight lips and wide eyes at each other, shaking their heads and nodding at odd intervals. He’d be concerned if this didn’t happen on a regular basis. 

“Wait until he’s… fifteen.” Papa flounders. Mama rolls her eyes, knocking her head back into the seat while Papa shrugs helplessly.

Eliott frowns, that’s so long. But for Lucas, he’ll wait. He has manners and such.

Then maybe Lucas won’t cry next time since he’ll be a big boy like Eliott.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jokes on you Eliott, Lucas will still cry
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Let's try to survive hell week #2 shall we


	2. Chapter 2

Lucas has seen colour ever since he can remember.

His memories before meeting Eliott pale in comparison to everything that comes after. But he’d never ever utter a word of that observation— god knows his soulmate doesn’t need anymore fodder for his gigantic ego. 

Besides, how can he have room to remember anything else when everyone just _loves_ to remind him all about the incident— as if the idea of Lucas crying over his first kiss is a perpetually hilarious concept.

He’s perfected the blasé, _I was five_ , he often uses to defend himself.

“Please tell me this is safe,” he says, stepping over a frozen tree root as he follows Eliott deeper into the woods. 

“This is safe.” 

Lucas watches him hop down an icy slope, long legs able to step over the deep grove without risk of falling and breaking his head open— which, yeah, no, Lucas is _not_ going any further. “Please tell me this is safe, without lying.” 

“You’re really demanding, you know that?” Eliott looks up at him from where he’s waiting on lower ground. “You don’t trust me?”

“Uh, not really, no.” 

Eliott laughs, moving closer to where Lucas’s stood at the edge of the boulder. “Come on, I got you.” 

“What if you slip?”

“I won’t.”

“What if I slip?”

“I won’t let that happen.” 

Lucas sighs, bouncing in his spot as he weighs his options. “Eliott, just come back up here, please,” he says, voice soft as he peeks over the steep edge and loses all his nerve. “Let’s get back to the guys.” His mind plays out a scene akin to a horror movie, where one wrong step would send Eliott rolling off the edge of some hidden cliff, or Lucas would be standing under the wrong tree and an icicle would drop down to stab him to death. Call him a coward all you want but it’s really fucking dark out here and Lucas has never claimed to be brave. 

The playfulness on Eliott’s expression softens, and he reaches up, straining until he’s able to grab one of Lucas’ hands in a reassuring grip. “I swear nothing will happen, Lucas.” He runs his thumb over the back of Lucas’ hand, smiling up at him with those endearing wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “When have I ever let you fall?”

  

* * *

  

At seven years of age, Lucas’ parents fight so much that they don’t even notice their only son sneaking out to escape the loud, loud yelling.

He’s climbed into the play structure at the park his mama used to always take him to— back when she’d been less stressed out, back when papa had still eaten dinner with the two of them every night.

Lucas curls himself into a ball, hiding tear streaked cheeks into the crook of his elbows. He’s not necessarily crying about the fight, he doesn’t understand what they’re talking about, it’s just that he’s really scared right now. 

He’s at the highest point of the play structure and he kind of wants to go down but every way back down to the ground looks too scary. He doesn’t want to fall and die. Mama used to always pick him up when he gets stuck like this, but she doesn’t even know he’s here. 

“Lucas?” 

He looks up at the sound of his name and sees Eliott down below, holding a basketball in his arms. 

“Hi,” Lucas says lamely, sniffing as he wipes at his tears.

Eliott gasps. “Why are you crying? Wait for me, I’ll come get you!”

“No!” Lucas stops him, afraid that _both_ of them would get stuck if Eliott climbs up after him.

“What?” The basketball falls uselessly on the sandy ground. One of Eliott’s legs is already poised to step up the ladders. “Why not?”

“I can’t get down,” Lucas whispers, feeling more tears fill up his eyes. “I wanna go down!”

“Oh.” Eliott frowns, jumping easily onto the second level of the structure, contemplates a bit, and then climbs onto the third level. “Come, give me your hand.” 

Lucas shakes his head. Eliott looks too far away, Lucas will _die_. 

“Come on, Lulu. I got you.” Eliott’s reaching upwards, both hands open for Lucas to take. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”

   

* * *

 

Lucas jumps off the rock and Eliott catches him easily. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Eliott grins, carefully setting Lucas down on a patch of snow, ensuring that no ice is hidden underneath the powdery surface. 

“Revisit the topic when it’s time for us to get back up and I can’t climb over the damn rock.”

Eliott ruffles his hair, chuckling. “I’ll take care of everything.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas scoffs, grumpily kicking small blocks of ice away from his path as they continue walking. “How much further?”

“Not much longer, your highness.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, ducking under the branch that Eliott pulls out of the way for him.

Eliott’s sneaking glances at him, eyes curved slightly in a hint of a smile so Lucas puts in the effort to pull different faces for each time his aggravating boyfriend looks back. It gets him happy little giggles from Eliott and Lucas has to bite his lip against a smile. He can’t have Eliott thinking that he’s _enjoying_ this ridiculous trek in the woods now. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Eliott says, snapping a particularly stubborn branch off one of the trees when it wouldn’t bend. Lucas could have just dodged it himself but he’s not about to argue with Eliott’s adorable and sometimes (always) successful attempts at chivalry. “I know it’s late, I really wanted to take you out here earlier but the guys wouldn’t leave us alone.” 

“You could have told me, I would’ve kindly asked them to fuck off for you,” Lucas says, walking faster when he sees Eliott cupping his hands around his mouth to blow warm air into them. In a weird twist of events, Lucas’s the one who’d been smart enough to bring his gloves for the cabin trip and Eliott had somehow managed to pack three winter jackets but had jack all for toques and mittens. 

“I know.” Eliott’s laughing again, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep them away from the biting cold. Lucas stumbles clumsily over the bumpy forest floor, almost falling into Eliott’s back and startling his boyfriend into turning around. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah, fine, I just—” Lucas gives up trying to explain himself, reaching out to wrap both of his gloved hands around one of Eliott’s freezing ones. “Should’ve borrowed Yann’s gloves before taking me here.” 

Eliott shrugs. “I was hoping you’d do this actually so… success, I guess.”

Lucas squints at him. That’s total bullshit. “Just admit you didn’t think of it and go.” 

Eliott raises his hands in surrender, laughter loud amongst the silent trees. Lucas grabs his hand back in his hold. “What do I do with my other hand then?”

A side eye is all he gets. “Suffer.” 

“Aw, come on.”

“I’ll switch to your other side later.”

“You’re so sweet sometimes that I forget you’re the biggest bitch I know.” 

“Oh yeah? This bitch is done warming your hands then.” Lucas lets go of him, sealing the deal by lagging a few steps behind.

“I’m kidding!” Eliott jogs backwards, making the dumb gesture somehow look cute. Lucas scowls at himself, disgusted at how in love he is with this goofball. “I’m kidding, please hold my hand, Lulu.” 

Lucas makes sure to heave his biggest sigh, “I guess if I have to.” 

But Eliott doesn’t resume with the banter, only dipping his head down to Lucas’ eye level and nudging his cheek with his nose like the overgrown puppy he is. “I mean it. Thank you for coming.”

Lucas looks up at him when Eliott pulls away, hands clenching tighter around Eliott’s fingers— now toasty warm. 

“You know I’ll follow you everywhere, dumbass.”

  

* * *

 

Lucas is fourteen when Eliott calls him at half past two in the morning, words indecipherable in between his heaving sobs. It’s a good thing they live close by, because nothing would have stopped Lucas from pulling his shoes on and running right over. 

They’re in Eliott’s bed the morning after, sitting cross legged from each other as Eliott fiddles with the many tubs of paint in his collection. Lucas watches him silently, offering a small nod when Eliott swears under his breath and leaves the room, promising he’d be right back.

They still haven’t talked about what happened the night before. 

Lucas flops back down on the bed, snuggling closer into the large hoodie Eliott’s lent him after his shower— his soulmate hadn’t even _tried_ to look for something that would fit Lucas better. 

“This should be good enough,” Eliott says as he returns, tone slightly giddy, and when Lucas looks up he catches the tiny smile gracing Eliott’s features. Lucas sighs, relief spreading over his chest like a soothing balm— it’s definitely progress from how Eliott had been acting last night. 

“What’s that for?” Straightening up, Lucas nods towards the small bottle of nail polish in Eliott’s grip. 

“Remember when I asked for your help last month?”

“For your project?” 

“Yeah!” Eliott jumps back into bed, pulling Lucas closer by his legs. Lucas would have kicked him in the face for it if the memory of Eliott’s tears still wasn’t so fresh in his mind. “I need your hands for the cover photo.”

“So you’re using me as a free hand model.”

“I’ll buy you ice cream after.” Eliott looks up, shooting him a quick wink. 

Great. So they’re still not talking about it. 

Eliott folds the sleeves of the hoodie twice over to get the material away from Lucas’ hands. They work in comfortable silence— Eliott trying his hardest to make the blue nail polish look smooth and even while Lucas opts to staring at him unashamedly. 

He’s kind of missed Eliott, actually. 

Eliott has started high school already while Lucas’s still trudging along in middle school, pretending his handsome dork of a shadow isn’t a gaping absence in his everyday life. It’s not like they’ve grown apart; they see each other out of school sometimes (when Eliott’s not drowning in homework) and they text each other a lot of times. 

Still, it’s different from how they’ve always been inseparable during their younger years. 

“I went to the doctor yesterday.” 

Lucas perks up, nodding as Eliott moves on to painting his other hand. But when the other boy doesn’t continue, Lucas decides to give him a verbal cue. “Okay.” 

Eliott blinks, like he’s just remembering that he’d said something in the first place. “Something weird happened last week.”

Lucas doesn’t quite get how it relates to the doctor thing but he lets it be. “Okay.”

“I was invincible, Lucas,” Eliott explains vaguely and despite the positive words he’s using, his tone implies otherwise. Which makes sense, since Lucas vividly remembers Mrs. Demaury telling Lucas that Eliott hadn’t been feeling well at all the past week. “And then I wasn’t.” 

“Okay.” The urge to hold Eliott’s hands in his is almost overwhelming but his nails haven’t dried yet and he really doesn’t want to ruin Eliott’s hard work. 

“It’s like… my mind was going to so many places.” Eliott replaces the cap on the nail polish, letting it roll on the sheets between them as he talks. “But my body can’t move.” There’s a slight tremor in Eliott’s hands and Lucas decides _fuck it, to hell with the goddamn nail polish_. He reaches out and intertwines their fingers together, squeezing the hands in his when he feels Eliott hold onto him a little harder.  

“Okay.”

“I didn’t— I was feeling _everything_ and _nothing_ all at once and I just wanted to _sleep_.” Eliott closes his eyes, his grip on Lucas bordering on painful but the latter doesn’t stray from it. “But I wasn’t fucking sleeping.” He lifts their joined hands up to his forehead, head ducked down as if in prayer. “This,” Eliott continues, knocking his head lightly over their hands. “This was elsewhere and I couldn’t fucking control it.” 

Lucas pulls their hands towards him, brings them to his lips. He places the lightest of kisses over Eliott’s knuckles, willing for him to look up. “Okay.” 

“I’m bipolar, Lucas,” Eliott whispers, words shivering out of his lips. “It’s not okay.”

There’s a pinprick behind his eyes, tears stubbornly wanting to make their appearance despite Lucas’ best efforts. Still, he clenches his teeth against them. “Maybe. But it doesn’t change a thing.”

“It changes everything.”

The fact that Eliott uses the same words that Lucas’ father had used a couple of years ago, against his mama, has him losing the battle. The tears he’d been holding back fall from his eyes and his heart lurches painfully when Eliott’s immediate reaction is to wipe at them gently with his thumb. 

“No,” he says, just as soft. “It doesn’t, not for me. Not for us.” Lucas can be anything in his life— he’s young and brash and has his whole life ahead of him. He will not be his father. “I’ll be right here, as always.”

“It’s going to be hard.”

“Things don’t stay easy forever anyway.” 

“You weren’t there last week, it was so bad.”

“I’ll learn.”

“But—”

“Are you _trying_ to get rid of me?” He says, brows raising in accusation. It gets a small huff of laughter from Eliott and Lucas smiles at the sound. “Cause give it up, I’m not going anywhere.”

“What if I go where you can’t follow?”

“Impossible.” He doesn’t ever want to think about what that means. “Where you go, I go.” 

“Fuck,” Eliott breathes out, shaking his head. “Fuck fifteen.”

Lucas’s only confused for a second before Eliott leans over and captures his lips in a kiss. He’s _swear to god_ not expecting it and certainly not when Eliott tumbles them back into the sheets, tongue hot and insistent against his closed lips. Not knowing what else to do, he allows Eliott in and immediately after can’t decide whether it’s the best or worst decision of his life. Either way, the very telling moan that claws its way out of his throat is enough to have him mortified. 

You see, Lucas has never had anyone but Eliott and his experience in this area is absolute _rock bottom_ as Eliott hasn’t actually kissed him on the lips ever since that time when he was five. And he’d _cried_ back then. 

He has half a mind to demand where Eliott learned to kiss like this because he’s pretty sure his soulmate hasn’t had anyone but Lucas either or he most certainly will be kicking him where it _hurts_. But all thoughts of demanding anything flies out the window when Eliott’s hands make their way under his borrowed hoodie and, well, _just no_ , Lucas has to mentally prepare for this beforehand please and thank you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasps out, finally finding the strength to turn away and use his jelly limbs to push Eliott off. 

“You okay?” Eliott asks, all worried like he hadn’t just attempted to murder Lucas with his tongue. 

“Yeah,” he says quickly, moving so that he’s face down on the bed with a hand over his pounding chest. _Jesus_. “Just, wait, I think I’m having a heart attack.” 

Eliott falls into the pillows laughing; unencumbered, bellowing, genuine— _happy_.

He wipes his half dried nails over the sheets in revenge.

“Lucas!”  

  

* * *

 

“Why is it so fucking cold?” Lucas mumbles mostly to himself. Blowing out a breath upwards and seeing the cloud of white in its wake irrationally pisses him off even more.

“I told you to bring a jacket,” Eliott says, nonchalant as he ambles through, all warm in his shirt and hoodie and _two_ fucking jackets. 

“I did,” Lucas retorts. “I just didn’t know we were going to fucking _Antartica_ , Eliott.”

His boyfriend outright laughs at his discomfort. Lucas pouts, carefully stepping around slippery patches of ice as he shivers in misery. If Eliott has to take him to the hospital for hypothermia after this, he’ll see who’s laughing then. 

Everything around him goes pitch black all of a sudden and Lucas stops, breath halting its steady rhythm as he looks up. His eyes haven’t adjusted yet so he can’t even see Eliott’s outline in the dark.

“Shit.” He hears Eliott from somewhere ahead of him and Lucas tries to walk over but he bumps into a tree two steps into it, feet sinking into a fragile glass of ice. The crunching sound it makes under his feet is jarring. “Lucas? Stay where you are, okay? Don’t move.” 

And yeah that’s some smart thinking right there. He’s glad at least one of them still has common sense. 

Eliott’s phone battery has probably ran out. Lucas’ phone is back at the cabin, charging, so he can’t even do anything to help fix this. His brain starts coming up with horror movie scenarios again and Lucas thumps his head against the tree, turning around to lean his back against it as he waits for Eliott. 

“Baby?” He hears Eliott’s voice again, still from the same direction as earlier.

“Right here,” he answers, thoughts of hypothermia taking a backseat for now. 

There’s a light click from somewhere on his left and Lucas can breathe properly again. The path in front of him is lit with the flashlight in Eliott’s hand and Lucas wastes no time running towards him. 

Eliott doesn’t make fun of him when Lucas jumps into his arms, only bending down a little so that Lucas doesn’t strain so much to reach him. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” Eliott murmurs into his hair. “I forgot my phone has shit battery life.”

Lucas laughs at that. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t scared.” Lucas doesn’t need to see Eliott’s thumb moving over the flashlight to know what his jackass soulmate is about to do. “But I _will_ murder you myself if you shut that light off right now and no one will find your body out here.”

He feels Eliott’s laughter from over his head but Eliott obediently keeps the light on. Thank fucking god. 

Now that the crisis is over, Lucas starts to shiver from the cold again and he’s beginning to very seriously think that he’s actually going to die that same night when his body is wrapped in immediate warmth. His head snaps up, and Eliott smiles down at him, outer jacket now placed over Lucas’ shoulders instead. 

“You’ll be cold,” Lucas protests weakly, not really wanting to lose the blessed warmth but also not wanting Eliott to feel as cold as he’d been earlier. “Take it back.”

“Do you really think I need two jackets to stay warm?”

“Hm?” Lucas still hasn’t moved from his position against Eliott’s chest, arms wrapped securely around the latter’s waist so he doesn’t move away. 

“I knew you’d be too lazy to dress properly so I brought this for you,” he says, rubbing circles around Lucas’ back over the jacket.

“Oh.”

“What? You doubted me?” Eliott pulls back, lifting Lucas’ face by the chin. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’ll take care of you before you drill it into that head of yours?” 

Lucas presses his lips together but his efforts hold no candle over the enormous smile that tugs them apart. 

    

* * *

 

At fifteen, Lucas quickly gets exhausted by the attention he’s receiving in high school. 

He knows the bulk of the interest comes from being one half of a soulmate duo. He doesn’t exactly shout it out to the rooftops but the rumour mill is _brutal_ around high school. Everybody somehow knows who’s got the syndrome or not. It doesn’t even help him that Eliott makes it no secret just who exactly Lucas’ other half is. Ironically enough, it only makes things worse.

“I’m having a party this Friday,” Robert, or whatever his name is, leans against the locker beside Lucas’, unperturbed even when Lucas treats his presence like air. “If you and your friends wanna come.” 

What Lucas _wants_ is for what’s his face to leave him the fuck alone. “No.”

“You answered that too quickly, I think you might wanna think about it for a bit longer.” 

Lucas slams his locker shut, spares the nuisance some eye contact for a few seconds longer than usual, and reconfirms his answer. “No.” 

He hears Yann and the others coming up behind him and breathes out a sigh. _Finally_ , some rescue— or so he thought. 

“Hey man!” Arthur greets the guy behind Lucas while Basile looks starstruck. And, okay, Lucas understands the fascination; Robert is in his final year and is in one of the more popular cliques in school. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s fucking annoying, though. 

Lucas looks at Yann with an expression he hopes is meaningful enough to get him to bail Lucas out. 

But Yann doesn’t get it. Lucas is seriously going to demote him from best friend status now. 

“Fine,” Robert sighs, straightening up from the locker to loom infuriatingly close behind Lucas’ back. “I won’t hold it against you if you change your mind.” 

“Change your mind about what?” Basile snaps out of his daze just in time to fuel the fire Lucas’s desperately trying to douse. 

“Nothin—”

“Lucas says you guys wouldn’t be interested in a party this Friday?” 

Fuck you, Robert. 

“What?!” Basile exclaims, looking at Lucas all offended. The latter shrugs, remaining uninterested. Arthur gives him a subtle tap on the shoulder, widening his eyes in reprimand when Lucas looks over and they _really_ need to calm down, it’s just a stupid party. There’s one practically every week. 

“No, no.” Arthur takes over, pushing Lucas aside which means he now has to turn around and see Robert’s triumphant smirk. “He cracked his head on a wall this morning, we’ll definitely be there.” 

“Cool. I’ll see you then.” And with that, Robert walks off— backwards. It doesn’t look half as attractive as when Eliott does it. Lucas barely resists flashing him the middle finger. 

“Lucas!” Arthur turns to him, scandalized. “How could you turn that down?” 

“It’s just a party.”

“It’s not _just_ a party. That was Roden Caron inviting you, _himself_ , just now. Are you crazy?”

Oh, so that's what his name is. “Whatever, you guys can go if you want. I’m staying home.”

“Pretty sure he won’t let us in without you,” Basile pipes up, eyes round and pleading. 

Lucas turns to Yann, who’s been quiet for the entire conversation, only to see his best friend’s head tilted down, tapping aimlessly at his phone. He knows Yann and Emma are having a rough time with their relationship right now and guilt churns in Lucas’ stomach. He hasn’t exactly been acting the role of the best friend either, too preoccupied with the shift in his and Eliott’s relationship for the past year. 

But maybe that dickhead Roden’s given him an opportunity to redeem himself a little. 

“Yann,” Lucas calls out, Yann looking up at them only after he’s been directly addressed. “You up for some distraction on Friday?” 

“I don’t know…” 

“Come on, man.” Basile knocks him encouragingly on the shoulder. “There’ll be unlimited drinks for free! And hot girls!”

“Yeah! And I heard his parties are _bomb_ ,” Arthur pitches in, almost vibrating at the prospect of attending. 

Yann meets Lucas’ eyes. “Eliott’s gonna be okay with this?”

“Uh.” Eliott probably wouldn’t want to go to a party hosted by some guy with a vendetta against him but Lucas can try. “I’ll ask if he wants to come.”

“No, no, no.” Basile takes Lucas’ phone away before he could do anything. “We are going to this party as single men.”

“ _We’re_ not single, though,” Yann retorts.

Basile pauses. “Okay, not single _single_ but no significant others for the night.”

“Why?” Lucas doesn’t feel all that comfortable going without Eliott, for obvious reasons. 

“When was the last time we all hung out together with just us?” Basile spreads his hands out quite dramatically, looking around to meet eyes with each one of them. Lucas concurs he doesn’t have a good answer to that. “Exactly.”

They all mumble disgruntled agreements, even Arthur who isn’t even in a serious relationship. 

Lucas pockets his phone without asking Eliott to come with him. It’ll probably be fine anyway. 

Except, of course, it’s not. 

Yann’s shitfaced drunk on the couch two hours into arriving and Lucas, having stuck to him like a leech in order to prevent anything too disastrous from happening, is on his way to getting there as well. He listens to Yann’s moaning and groaning about not _meaning_ to lie to Emma all the time but things are just so _complicated_. 

Lucas sloppily pats him on the back, taking another swig at his beer until he realizes that the bottle is empty. 

He should get more. 

Getting up from the couch is a hassle— his legs feel too weak to support the rest of his body and his head seems to have cotton for brains.

He should stop drinking now.

Digging around his pockets, he walks towards the kitchen in hopes of finding a little peace and quiet— and two water bottles for him and Yann as well. He’s glad his cotton brains are at least half functional. 

His hands finally reach into the correct pocket for his phone and he gleefully presses Eliott’s speed dial, excited to finally talk to his boyfriend after a long day without him. Eliott knows he’s at Roden’s party, having mentioned it offhandedly after Eliott complained about having to go to a classmate’s house, on a _Friday night_ , to finish a group assignment. 

Just as predicted, Eliott’s face soured at the mention of Roden but he shrugged it off, kissing Lucas goodbye with a teasing, “Don’t be too bored without me.” 

And Lucas tried, really, but parties are just way too dull without his boyfriend around. 

“Hey.” Eliott picks up from the other line, sounding sweet and sleepy. 

Lucas realizes he doesn’t know what time it is. “I’m bored, Eliott.” 

There’s a muffled chuckle and then, “I think it’s time for you to leave that lame party.” 

“But the guys are still here?” He speaks slowly, trying not to slur his words. Eliott would get worried if he catches wind of how much Lucas has already drank. 

“With you right now?”

Lucas looks around and spots Arthur and Basile engaged in a giant drinking game that looks a hair’s width away from being _too much_. 

“No.” 

“Then you can leave whenever you want.” 

“Yeah… yeah,” he answers absently, leaning against the kitchen counter as he stares at the cupboards. Which one would hold the cups? He wants cold water from the fridge, not those stupid water bottles scattered around on the floor. 

"Lucas?” There’s a lot of noise from Eliott’s line but Lucas can’t figure out what he’s doing at this time of the night. Or early morning. Whatever. “Hey, baby, are you okay?” 

“Mhm.” He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “I think…” Drunk Lucas is too much of a disaster to be hanging around in public so he should probably go. “I’m—”

“Finally caught you.” There’s another voice nearby but Lucas understands that it’s not coming from his phone. He turns around, cursing in his head at the sight of Roden. He’s been doing _so well_ avoiding the guy all night. 

Lucas holds the phone tighter. “I’m just leaving,” he mumbles, trying to push past him to get out of the kitchen. Except Roden holds out an arm to block his path and it’s enough to confuse Lucas’ drunken state into staying put. 

Eliott’s saying something from the other line but Roden picks the phone out of Lucas’ slack hold and ends the call. “You don’t have to.”

“I do.” Lucas attempts to leave again, only to realize that he still needs his phone back. He makes a grab for it but Roden pulls it out of reach. “Give it.” 

“Get one more drink with me and I’ll let you go.” Roden gestures towards the two bottles of beer on the kitchen island. 

Lucas shakes his head, he’s not drunk enough to be _too_ stupid. “No, I wanna leave.”

“Come on, I just wanna talk.” Roden’s arms fall by his sides as he shrugs and Lucas’ eyes follow the movement.

“I don’t wanna talk.” Lucas snatches his phone back, pocketing it real quick. With that done, he tries for another escape but this time Roden’s hands grab him by the wrists, pressing him against the wall and this is getting _really_ _fucking frustrating_. 

“Fine, no talking. Let’s do something else then.”

Lucas twists around, trying to free himself enough to punch this imbecile in the balls. “Are you deaf or what?” He wants to yell but even that small attempt to raise his volume causes him a bout of dizziness. _Shit_ , this would be the worst time to pass out. “I _said_ I wanna go home. Get off me.”

“Come on, stop pretending it’s not boring, staying with just one person your whole life.” 

He stops struggling for a second only to give Roden an incredulous look. Is this guy serious? He’s really going to go fake deep about soulmates with Lucas over here? 

“None of your business.”

“I’m just trying to do you a favour, see?” Roden leans down, breathing over his neck. Lucas’ pulse spikes with the first strike of fear. “Maybe after this, you’ll even forget all about _Demaury_.” 

The mention of Eliott’s name, in that _mocking tone_ that Lucas is unfortunately too familiar with, brings out such sheer _anger_ in him that Lucas manages to rip his hands away from Roden’s grip, punch him twice in his dumb, entitled face, and kick him in between the legs for good measure. He’s light headed by the time he’s done and Roden looks more furious than hurt, which doesn’t bode all that well for him, so Lucas makes a run for it. 

As best as he can anyway. His knees are _this close_ to buckling but Lucas holds onto that thread of adrenaline, hoping he’s going the correct way to the front doors.

When he gets out, the wind is comfortingly cold against his skin but he stutters in his steps— he can’t go home like this. His mom would worry and get even more stressed out. Raking shaky hands through his hair, he’s just about to stagger down the porch steps to figure things out on his walk home when Eliott, wide eyed and windswept, comes running into sight. 

“Eliott?” Lucas sure hopes he’s not hallucinating right now or he’d be _really_ worried for himself.

“Come here.” Eliott walks up to him and Lucas barely gets off the top step before Eliott’s arms are around him, embrace so tight it pulls him off the ground. “What the fuck was that, Lucas?”

“Huh?”

“The fucking phone call,” Eliott says carding one hand through Lucas’ messy hair. “I heard his voice and it just ended and—”

“I’m fine.” Lucas tries not to think about it or he might not be fine. “How did you get here?” 

“I ran.”

“Fuck.” Lucas buries his face in Eliott’s neck. “Stop being so sweet, I’m gonna puke.”

“Pretty sure you’re gonna puke anyway.”

“Shut up.” 

Eliott sets him down carefully, but Lucas can’t bring himself to walk another step. He’s run out of adrenaline since Eliott’s arrival and he’s reminded of how truly useless his body becomes when inebriated. 

“Here.” Eliott stoops down in front of him, taking Lucas’ hands to wrap around his neck from behind. “Get on my back.”

“I’m sorry.” Lucas slumps against Eliott’s back, holding on when Eliott straightens back up. “You must be tired.”

“Never.” 

Lucas cuddles closer, pressing his nose into Eliott’s hair. “Thank you.” 

“I told you, Lulu.” Eliott turns his head and steals a little kiss. “I’ll be here to take care of you. Always.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re never going to a party without me again.”

“I know.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill Roden.”

Lucas snorts, “Don’t bother.”

“No, he’s gonna die on Monday.”

“ _Eliott_.”

   

* * *

 

“You said we were almost there like, two hours ago,” Lucas says, mostly to be difficult. He’s starting to not mind the long walk in the deep, dark woods with Eliott. Except for the fact that, you know, they could die any minute now. But that’s no big deal. 

“It’s been half an hour,” Eliott retorts with a scoff. “And we really are here this time. Careful, watch your steps.” He leads them up a soft mountain of snow and Lucas feels the wooden stairs buried deep under. It gets steadily brighter around them the higher they get, with the trees no longer shielding them from the night sky. 

And wow, okay, maybe Eliott’s onto something over here. 

High up as they are, Lucas sees nothing but an expanse of dark skies speckled with stars that are _alive_. Is that…?

“Meteor shower.” Eliott leans his chin on Lucas’ shoulder, watching his reaction closely. “It started about half an hour ago. I was worried we’d miss it.” 

Lucas stands there with his mouth open, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“How did you…” Lucas turns, laughing incredulously up at Eliott. “Did you make a deal with the devil? How do you do these things?” His eyes slide back up where the stars continue their mesmerizing dance in the dark. “Fuck.” He feels Eliott’s gaze still on him so Lucas nudges him with an elbow. “Why aren’t you watching it?”

“I’ve got something much better.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes, thankful that the flashlight’s shut off, making it way too dark to catch the warmth on his cheeks. “Stop.” 

Eliott grins. “I’ve been so obsessed with your eyes from the moment I saw them.”

“Obsessed?” Lucas repeats, laughing. “How romantic.”

“Would you turn down the attitude? I’m trying to make a speech here.” Eliott’s bouncing on his feet now— is he getting cold?

“Sorry, go on,” Lucas says, gesturing with a hand for Eliott to continue. 

“I’m starting over.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Jesus, I’ve always thought you were so fucking rude, you know.”

“You’re really nailing the romance up in here, dude.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Or what?” Lucas’ eyes are still stuck on the sky.

“Or I’ll marry you,” Eliott whispers and Lucas feels his brain combust.

What?

_What?_

He hasn’t moved, still facing the stars, but his eyes are unseeing. 

It isn’t like Eliott hasn’t talked about marriage before, but that was years ago, when they were children. And Lucas had doubted how serious he’d been about it. 

Eliott’s graduated from college last year and he’s having the time of his life as an intern in the film industry. He’s got his own apartment where Lucas had moved in ages ago— it had been a chill, unofficial thing, really, Lucas had gone over once upon a time and just didn’t go back home.

Lucas is only nineteen, he’s still got quite a bit to go before figuring out where he wants to be after graduation. 

He doesn’t know if getting married any time soon is a good idea at all. 

“No,” he says, zoning back in, blinking up at the sky. 

“… No?”

“No.” He turns, gazing up at Eliott’s falling expression. Despite the loss of spark in them, the skies above the two of them are no match against the galaxies in Eliott’s blue, blue eyes. “No, I won’t shut up.” 

To hell with good ideas anyway. 

The smile that blooms on Eliott’s face is worth the, probably, very fucking stupid decision Lucas has just made. Faced with the intensity of the joy radiating from his soulmate, Lucas can’t comprehend how he’s ever to decline the question. 

Eliott drops down on one knee.

“Oh no,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “Get up, get up, don’t do this.” 

But of course Eliott doesn’t listen. He soaks up Lucas’ panic and seems to gain confidence from it, the _utter asshole_. “Lucas Lallemant…”

Lucas takes the hood of his jacket and folds it over his eyes. 

Eliott laughs, “Baby, it doesn’t have to be now, or the year after, or any time soon. I don’t care when it is. But I’ll really appreciate it if you say yes to marrying me at some point before we die.” 

Lucas peeks down at him. “Is that your big speech?”

“No, I forgot my original speech when you said no earlier,” Eliott admits, pulling Lucas’ hands away from his face to make sure that he sees clearly what’s hidden inside Eliott’s palm. 

Lucas watches Eliott’s fingers unfold and he knows there’s got to be some kind of ring in there but what he sees makes him gasp out a resounding, “No!” And he spins around, hands over his head. He can’t believe this. “No! You’re so cheesy, _what the fuck_?” He doesn’t know what to do with himself, it feels like his limbs are trying to shiver out of his body from the inside out. 

Eliott isn’t even on his knees anymore, he’s just sitting on the snow powdered ground, laughing it up. “You don’t like it?” He barely gets the words out before dissolving into more high pitched laughter. Lucas doesn’t understand why he loves this idiot. 

“How… it was so ugly,” he mumbles, stepping closer to look at the ring again. It’s not ugly anymore, to be honest. The metal is now slimmer, more delicate than crude, its polished surface glimmering every time it catches onto a source of light. The haphazard knot that connects the band together has been trimmed so that it looks more like intertwining branches rather than a badly screwed keychain. 

“Can I?” Eliott stands, hands hovering close to Lucas’. 

Lucas nods, fascinated as it slips perfectly over his finger. 

It’s actually really stupidly beautiful.

“Fuck.”

“Are you crying?”

“Shut _up_.”

  

* * *

 

He’s five when Mama tells him that Eliott is going to be a big part of his life. 

So on the Monday after everything suddenly looked weird and bright, Lucas seeks Eliott out so he can watch him make more ugly paintings. 

He’s letting Eliott talk him through what’s going on in his newest project when something falls out of Eliott’s sweater pocket. Lucas picks it up, frowning when a sharp end pokes at his finger. 

“What’s this?” He lifts it up to Eliott’s face and the boy goes a little cross eyed.

“Oh!” Carefully, he takes it off Lucas’ hold and places it on the desk. “It’s your ring.” 

Lucas doesn’t get it. “Why would I have a ring?”

“For when I get you to marry me,” Eliott declares, looking at it proudly. “Mama makes things with metals, she said I can have this!” 

“It’s big.” 

“Of course, silly. You have to grow up before you marry me.” 

Lucas stares at the ring some more. The whole thing is crooked and he’s pretty sure the knots will stab someone’s eyes out if they’re not careful. It’s so ugly, he doesn’t like it. But Eliott seems very happy so Lucas keeps those thoughts to himself. “Is it… abstract?” 

Eliott blinks, looking like he doesn’t know what to say. That’s okay, Lucas asks a lot of questions even adults don’t know the answer to. 

“Huh,” Eliott says, putting a finger to his chin like he’s thinking hard about it. 

The teacher interrupts them before Eliott can give him a proper answer, letting Eliott know that his parents are there to pick him up. 

Lucas smiles when Eliott pouts— it’s really cute. It reminds him of when his neighbour’s little baby frowns. Super adorable. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Lulu,” Eliott sighs, getting up to pack up his backpack. “You can have this one too.” He gives Lucas the new ugly painting; it looks like the one Lucas already has but Eliott’s used different colours this time— all shades of blue. 

“Bye bye.” Lucas waves him goodbye.

“Wait!” Eliott runs back to their table and drops a kiss on his forehead. 

Lucas blinks up at him. “Why?” 

“Because I love you but papa says I can’t kiss you again until you’re fifteen!” Eliott prattles out, already jogging back towards the door as he waves his hands about. “Bye, Lulu!” 

Lucas leans against the table, chin resting against his folded arms as he smiles at the new painting Eliott’s made for him. 

He’s beginning to like abstract. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol well this Eliott and Lucas are getting married (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞


End file.
